


And I'm Trying to Take You Out of My Mind

by chll51



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Angst (I guess), Canon divergence as hell, F/M, Written after s1 finale so nothing is accurate, lol, my small contribution to the fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2020-10-13 10:40:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20581163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chll51/pseuds/chll51
Summary: "You are a hard woman to track down."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before season 2 happened so everything is so inaccurate, it hurts. Questions let me know. Unbeta'd so mistakes are mine.

"_You are just this once and I know better in my own head_.”

//

It's a year into her position at the UN before she finds him in her office, circling around the room in his tailored suit like he owns the place. At first, she thinks that she's hallucinating because of the way the light bounces off his silhouette, and she hates to think of the kind of lie he’s pulled to get into her office. When he turns, he has a shit eating grin that reminiscences of the boy she might have loved in high school and college had things worked out. Everything about him now is neater, more expensive and pristine. “Nadia.”

“Guzmán.” Her breathing slows like nothing has really changed between them even with the years passed. “You know, breaking in is against the law, especially here.”

He tilts his head, amused. “Technically your assistant knows that I am here. Don't blame her, though. I said that we are going to celebrate our three years anniversary, and I wanted to surprise you.”

“Of course you did.” She walks to her desk and puts her paperwork down. “Mind telling me why you’re here?”

He smiles, hands in his pockets. “You are a hard woman to track down.”

“Not that hard if you managed to find me.” He then holds a hand to his chest, and she rolls her eyes at his childish antics. “You didn't answer the question.”

He shrugs, and looks away. “Maybe I miss you.”

Her weakness has always been his honesty, which is why he always opens up to her at inopportune time. “You didn't come to France because you miss me. You came because you heard about my breakup.”

At that, his smile widens.

> She was 16 when she saw him coming out of the pool with slick back hair and nothing on but a speedo; it was not the speedo that made her blushed. The boys at her old school wore them plenty; it was more that she couldn't believe there were boys like that, all broad shoulders, strong arms, and oozing confident like he was God’s gift to mankind, the type of boys that made her eyes rolled; she saw plenty of false bravado from boys in her neighbors but on him, it seemed like a second skin, one that he wore easily and proudly.
> 
> She averted her eye when he passed because the last thing that she wanted was to be caught in his gravity.
> 
> —_easy in_ and _easy out_, she reminded herself.
> 
> Everything she knew about boys, she learned it from her sister, which was too much, and too little at the same time. May used to have little marks on her neck that she hid with makeup even when she wasn't in her hijab. When Nadia asked about them, two red dots found its way to May's cheeks, and she giggled in between words. “Kisses, mi querida. Some day you'll see.”
> 
> Then May fell back on the bed with stars in her eyes; her dark curls danced on the sheets (the only thing that resembled them as sisters), and she smiled dreamily at the ceiling. Nadia wanted to know more about these so called kisses that made May acted like a fever induced patient, but she left one day and never came back. No warnings, no notes, and nothing left behind except a family torn apart by grief. On some days though, Nadia could still hear her sister giggling in the dark, coming in after seeing some boys.
> 
> “Teach me how to look at you,” he said with a crooked smile; the words smoothly slid off his tongue like butter to a hot knife, and he looked at her with those blues of his, with arms wide opened, willing to lay at her feet in surrender. Had May not been the cautionary tale, she might have bought his act, but they were playing a game of blackmail, and she would be a fool to believe otherwise. “I promise that I’ll be a fast learner.”
> 
> That, she did not doubt. He embodied everything that she hated, distilled into a rich, 6ft tall, pretty boy with claws pointed at anyone that did not belong, herself included if she did not know what she did. “I'm not sure that I'll be a good teacher.”
> 
> “Stay a little longer,” he said. “Let me show you that we are worth your time.”
> 
> Nadia thought, what must it be like to lie this well without choking on your own words.
> 
> (_Sometimes her mind drifted back to the time she saw him and Lu pressed against the showers in the swimming pool. The way their body moved and how his hands roamed and caressed, it made her want—_)
> 
> The thing was, she tailored her life to be opposite of May's. She was the modeled student that followed all the rules, and the one that put her family first. A coping mechanism, some would say, after the grief left behind by a sister leaving, but she couldn’t think about May without hating herself for having played a part; she saw her sister spiraling into an abyss and she did nothing.
> 
> Then Guzmán happened, and she didn’t know how to deflect him. His efforts were admirable if they weren’t so vexing. The harder she fought to keep him out, the easier he smiled, and the more charming he became. “Am I a challenge or a bet you made with your friends? Let's see how long it takes to get the Muslim girl to fall for me.”
> 
> He neither denied or confirmed it, but the awe look on his face told her that she might have hit the nail on the head. “Is your self esteem so low that you’d think I’d only get close to you because of a bet?”
> 
> Her cheeks burned under his gaze, as she laughed to diffuse the tension between them. “So I'm the challenge. The impossible turns you on.”
> 
> “I feel comfortable with you.” He sounded nervous before adding “maybe I don't quite believe that anyone could like me just for what I think or feel” as he finished putting on his shirt for the thousandth times. “We have a lot in common.”
> 
> May's words replayed in her head. _Remember to stay away from the ones with pretty mouth, Nadia. They always lie to get what they want._
> 
> And Guzmán had the prettiest mouth that she had seen thus far.
> 
> So this is new, the head in the cloud, heart palpitation sort of affection for someone she shouldn't. She had crushes before, and they were fun and gave her an adrenaline rush, but this was different. He was not what she expected, and his shift in her was quiet, subtle, and overwhelming. Every cells in her body tuned to his presence and emotions. She was scared that he had become someone important enough for her to be selfish about, and maybe this was the choice May had to make too, wanting things that she shouldn’t have, and end up choosing them over her own family. “I don't want to be your friend, Nadia.” He did not shy away, and let the words lingered in the air, thickening the tension between them. She heard a thrumming in her head as her pulse quickened. “I don't think I have ever wanted anything more.”
> 
> “Well, you might have to get used to not having what you want,” she said in jest. The pounding in her chest silenced out the noises. When they locked eyes, she broke into a smile first and pulled him in for a hug. It felt right because he was the first to make her want more. That meant something even if it did not result in anything. Her fingers then caressed the nape of his neck, and when they pulled apart, their faces were close enough for contact. The urge to lean forward gnawed at her, but she squashed the thought immediately.
> 
> She said it once that the impossible turned him on, but maybe it was the same for her too.
> 
> Marina died, and Guzmán fell off the face of the earth. The texts she sent over the summer went unanswered, and the calls she made went to voicemails. She told herself that he just lost his sister, and grieving was a private process. He needed time to be alone and to heal. At least that was what she thought until she overheard Ander mentioning something about him being on vacation with Lu in Italy. Supposedly they were on again, so he hadn't heard much from Guzmán. She could feel jealousy seeping in her veins, and knew that she can’t be mad about who he spent his time with. It wasn't as if the news came as a surprise. Lu and him had history, and most likely a future. It didn’t make it hurt any less, but it made sense.
> 
> The worst thing about moping over a boy that clearly did not care for her was realizing she had no friends to vent to. If May was here, they could talk and she could get advice, but May was not here. Therefore her option was limited. Samuel was out because his brother became a suspect in Marina's death so he had bigger problems to worry about. Omar, and by extension Ander, were her only choices. Their advice was to go on dates, so on dates she went.
> 
> The first was some kid that went to Omar’s school that seemed nice. He showed up thirty minutes late, did not have his wallet when the bill came, and made Nadia wished that she had listened to her guts and left 5 minutes after their meeting time. Alas she did not and was now out of forty bucks. Omar even had the nerve to ask her how it went, and it took all her self control not to strangle him.
> 
> The 2nd showed up on time thankfully, and had a gorgeous face. Some guy Ander once competed with in a tournament. Only problem was he couldn't stop talking about himself, which was fine if he let her say something too. When he leaned in for a kiss, she shook his hand instead. He promised to call her, and she had to let him down easy that there would be no second date.
> 
> “You okay?” asked Ander.
> 
> “Yeah.”
> 
> “You know you can talk to me.”
> 
> “About?”
> 
> “Guzmán related things.” He couldn't look her in the eye, and scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. This was a new territory for both of them. Guzmán was his best friend. She was just the sister of a guy that he happened to be in love with.
> 
> “He means well. It's just he—”
> 
> “I am well aware of his traits, flaws and all.” She motioned for him to sit down. “Look, I care for Guzmán, but I think it's pretty clear what the message is.”
> 
> “The things with Lu is complicated and—"
> 
> “I’m the last person to judge him for anything he does given all that he's going through, so you don’t have to explain on his behalf. Granted it stings, but I’m alright.” She gave his hand a light squeeze. “Thanks though.”
> 
> “Don’t look now—” whispered Samu, as she stared at him with confusion. “But Guzmán has been shooting daggers at us for the past half an hour. You think that has anything to do with you and me partnering for our government project?”
> 
> She shrugged and continued working. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks.”
> 
> “You guys still aren’t talking?”
> 
> “Nope.” It wasn’t as if she counted the days (she did, and she hated herself for it). “It’s not like anything was going to happen.”
> 
> “Is that why you started dating?”
> 
> “Omar told you,” sighed Nadia. “I'm going to kill him.”
> 
> Samu laughed, much lighter these days compared to the beginning of school, which was understandable. He was grieving for a brother, and a girlfriend who never loved him in the way that he wanted, who was now ten feet in the ground. They had grown closer now that he became her partner in crime during outings with Omar and Ander. “Yeah, he mentioned that you haven't had much luck.”
> 
> She dropped her head in embarrassment. “Don't remind me.”
> 
> “By the way,” he paused and showed her a text. “I got an invite to Ander's birthday this weekend.”
> 
> She skimmed the invitation. “You don’t want to come?”
> 
> He shrugged. “Guzmán still blames me for Marina's death, and I don’t know if you noticed, but he hasn’t stopped shooting darts at us. I don’t want to ruin the celebratory mood.”
> 
> “I'll be there, and I’ll need the company. Marina was the only one I got along with at this school beside you, and she—" She paused and frowned. “Sorry.”
> 
> He then clears his throat. “It's fine. I try not to think about it too much. It's just—”
> 
> “Hard.” She understands the feeling well, and gave him a reassuring squeeze. At the end of the day, they were still just kids trying to keep themselves afloat. Some days were easier than others. “Have you heard from your brother?”
> 
> He shook his head. “I keep getting his voicemail. Mom hasn't had much luck either.”
> 
> “I'm sure that once the police finds the culprit, he'll comeback.”
> 
> He did not look convinced, but nodded.
> 
> She ran into him on her way back from the washroom the night of the party. It seemed too planned to be a coincidence but then again, he had successfully avoided her all this time, so maybe she was overthinking this. “Excuse me.” She swerved to the left to pass and he did too. Then again and again. “What—”
> 
> “Can we talk?”
> 
> She pursed her lips, contemplating, then followed him back into the washroom. Once he locked the door, she waited for him to speak. Relationships were a two way street, and if he thinks that she would just forget how he acted like she didn’t exist, he had another thing coming. “What do you need to say because I have to get back soon.”
> 
> “Why Samuel?”
> 
> "Is that what you wanted to ask me?"
> 
> He frowned.
> 
> "Then we have nothing else to discuss."
> 
> “Wait—” He held her back by the arm. "I’m sorry."
> 
> She crossed her arms.
> 
> "I know that we haven't talk much—”
> 
> "Your decision by the way."
> 
> "Yes," said Guzmán in a quieter and softer tone. His defenses lowered when they locked eyes. “Samuel got my sister killed, Nadia."
> 
> Of course it was still all about his ego. “I'm sorry that you lost Marina. I can’t imagine the pain you must be in, but Samu did not cause her death. He loved her, and if you just take a moment, you would see that you were not the only one that got your whole life turned upside down. He also lost his brother to God knows where and what.”
> 
> “So what, you’re defending him now?”
> 
> “I’m his friend—”
> 
> “I thought we were friends.”
> 
> “If I remember correctly, you cut off contact,” she said, unable to hide irritation from her voice. “You don’t get to act like I do not exist then when it become convenient, tell me who I can and cannot be friends with. Do not throw our friendship in my face to get what you want.”
> 
> His eyes rested on her briefly before looking down. “I know.”
> 
> She reached for his arm, and felt him tensing under her grasp. “Then tell me what’s going on.”
> 
> He stepped back. “Not everything has to have a reason. I was grieving."
> 
> “Bullshit.”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “If you don’t want to tell me, fine. Do whatever you like, but don’t use grieve an excuse to be an asshole. I deserve better than that.”
> 
> "I did it because of you.” His voice turned hard and cold. “I made a promise—"
> 
> “A promise for what?"
> 
> "I promised your father that if he could let you back in school, I'd stay away."
> 
> "So you thought you'd swoop in and be the hero,” she interrupted, holding a hand to her temple, as she began to see red. “I’m so tired of people telling me that they know what is best for me and make choices for me. I am perfectly capable of doing it myself, and if you can’t respect that then I don’t need you.”
> 
> He stared at her slack jawed.
> 
> “If there’s nothing else, we are done.”
> 
> She left before he could interject, and let out the breath that she had been holding.
> 
> Nadia stopped counting the weeks gone by (approximately two months since they had the argument, and the longest time spent so far not seeing each other), and instead poured herself into her studies and extra curricular activities. School, store, then volunteering at a local shelter. One night, as she took Ander home, he let it slipped that Guzmán was being a bigger dick than before, and she almost scoffed like that was even a possibility. Ander must have heard because he attempted to stand straight like he wasn’t not wasted. “It’s probably because you.”
> 
> She rolled her eyes.
> 
> “No, li-listen,” he said, words slurred. He had a serious expression. Eyes semi-focused. “I'm his best friend so I know. I know he’s grieving over Marina. We all are, but ever since my party, when he came out after you, he had been in a pissy mood. Like nothing makes him happy.”
> 
> “I'm sure that you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
> 
> He waved a finger at her. “I know him. He likes you, or loves you. He hasn’t said it to me but he never was like this with Lu and I was there. We've been friends since for—” He almost fell to the ground. “I shouldn’t—”
> 
> “Yeah, both you and Omar owe me for this,” said Nadia amused, as she supported his weight. Luckily for her, he passed out just as she got him to his door and handed him to his parents.
> 
> When the news broke, Nadia found him by the school pool with vacant, red brimmed, and teary eyes. He was sitting on the edge with his legs dipped in the water. She approached him slowly, careful not to startle him. Inhaling a sharp breath, “Guzmán,” she said quietly and put a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at her, there was nothing reminiscence of him left; no arrogance or confidence, just a boy stripped bared to his bones mourning Marina’s passing, and finding out Polo's involvement made something in him broke. She kneeled down, bring herself to his eye level. She held his face in her hand and wanted to cry because she wasn’t sure how to fix this. Her fingers stroke his cheeks gently. “I'm here. I’m with you.”
> 
> She prayed that her words reached his ears, and the warmth from her fingers can melt the coldness of his skin. Then he softened, like a part of him came back, and she exhaled with relief. He leaned forward and kissed her like he was trying to breathe. “I love you.” He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, and looked at her like she was a savior to his plight. Her lips parted, stunned, as the reply got caught in her throat. He was grieving, she reminded herself, and his emotions were heightened. They barely spoke to each other these past few months so none of this was real.
> 
> He then let his head drop on her shoulders, “Stay,” he said, and she did, like he even had to ask. She held onto him and ran her up and down his back until his whole body relaxes. Gradually, she heard quiet, whimpers of sobs that he was comfortable enough to let out. Thinking back, she probably should have held onto him tighter, but she never knew when to love someone enough so that they don’t leave.

The thing about Guzmán is he always find her wherever she is, though the opposite can’t be said for her. This time, it's a deli near her apartment. She has just finished grabbing lunch when she exits and he enters. They almost collide with one another, but he catches her jut in time. He then flashes her blinding smile. She feels her heart leaping in her throat. Surprise and excitement roll into one. “Once is a coincidence, but twice is stalking,” she says without any bite, a small smile in her lips. “Should I be worried?”

Guzmán laughs, holding a hand in surrender. “This one is entirely an accident, I assured you. I’m in town for a business meeting, and I heard that this deli was the best.”

“I didn’t realize business conducted in jeans, then again, maybe the time has changed and jeans is the appropriate attire.”

“Right, no,” he then laughs. “Just a contract renewal. I have a couple of hours until I have to get ready. You?”

She holds up a brown paper bag that her sandwiches in. “My first day off since forever.”

“Well, then I should let you go,” he says, but doesn’t move out of the way. His feet stall, and they stay like that for a few moments. Everything about him is familiar, right down to the butterflies and the boyish charms. He used to means so much, still does if she gives it more than a second of thought, but she’s not sixteen anymore, and anything they need to say have already been said in her office, so she gives him a small nod of her head, and heads out. A tinge of disappointment until she hears her name. “Nadia?”

She turns, almost too quickly.

“We should have dinner the next time I’m in town,” he then clears his throat, and rubs his palms together. “To catch up.”

Insanity, doing the same thing and expecting different result. “Are you still with Lu?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we? And friends can meet up, and have dinner. No?”

“Friends do. We are not friends.” She then smiles. “Goodbye, Guzmán.”

\- _tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Nadia pulled away, she smirked. “Now we're even.”

_I'm not sure she realised how much affection I hold for her. How much I wish she was always beside me, or how she distracts me from everything but her. And her smile. That smile could end wars. It ended the war inside me._

//

It’s a beautiful night, and Guzmán has some wine in him that makes him feel warm all over; though he knows it's more her than the wine like it always is, and always will be. She makes him lightheaded, like he's on a sugar high, and he can't remember a time when he isn't in love with her. She’s beautiful underneath the candle light, and he feels braver in the moment with all the giddiness of a kid in love. He asks her what she thinks their future holds.

She tilts her head then laughs softly, her curls tuck neatly under her hijab, and the corner of her eyes twinkle like the damn stars in the sky. Her smile is so infectious that he finds himself doing the same, forgetting what he asked in the first place, though it isn't as if he was serious about it. He knows it even if she doesn't say it. They have discussed it many times before, and the answer is always the same. “Guzmán,” she says, and gives his hand a light squeeze. “We’ll always be who we are.”

_Close but never to cross_.

> When he was 17, he learned about loss. The type that choked him up at night and made him want to punch walls, or scream at the faces that haunted him. Marina wasn't supposed to die, and Polo wasn't supposed to be the one that killed her. His sister and his best friend, in a blink of an eye, gone and he was left to mourn. No amount of sorries and condolences can change that fact, and he was just so angry, and bitter and sad, like a void opened up and engulfed him whole.
> 
> Nadia found him, and said _I’m here_ and _I’m with you_ with his face in her hands; she reached into the darkness and pulled him back, and he wanted to ask _why_ and _how_ because he had been nothing but an asshole to her. Then she looked at him, all doe-eye and soft, and kind, like he was someone worthy of all this love pouring from her face. He wondered if she ever found him giving her the same looks.
> 
> _(He had, has, and always will)_
> 
> He kissed her because he just can't find the words to describe the emotions that were climbing up his throat, something akin to _I'm sorry_ and _you're everything to me_. Physical touch was the only way he knew how to speak, and she let him. When they broke apart, he held onto her hands, kissed them like he was trying to breathe, and said _I love you_. Her lips parted in surprise, but then she smiled, and God, he thought that if there was anything in life his good and pure, it was her; but the happiness was short lived because a part of him was still broken, and it was not her fault that she couldn't stop the chasm that was building in his lungs and suffocating him.
> 
> When he saw the flicker of understanding in her eyes, he ran back to the familiarity and arms of someone else’s. He couldn't risk ruining her future, or maybe he was just an asshole who did not believe that he could have something good without fucking it up.
> 
> After all, Marina died, and Polo might as well be dead to him.
> 
> He ran into her at a college party during the second semester. _Easy in, and easy out_, he repeated like a mantra, and it had been months since he saw her (he asked Ander for pictures, who looked at him like he was a crazed lunatic—Ander was not wrong). She still looked the same, still beautiful with her dark curls, full lips, thick lashes and a joie de vivre that came from their time spent apart. When they locked eyes, his knees weakened. She gave him a signal to meet her in the middle of the room. He held his breath when he saw her moving closer, and contemplated giving her some throwaway line about being busy; but then she threw her arms around him, and he melted. “What's going on?” he whispered, confused. “You're not drunk, are you?”
> 
> Nadia pursed her lips together, unamused, and held his face with her hands. God everything about her was warm, and he missed it. “The prick standing behind me didn't want to leave me alone until I told him you were my boyfriend, so smile and give him eye contact. The last thing I want is to get suspended for kicking him in the nuts.”
> 
> He laughed, imagining what she said. Then he glared at the asshole that she pointed out because if there was one thing he knew, it was that his reputation on campus should make the guy fear for his life and leave her alone. Sometimes it paid to be one of the richest guy in the country, and also the biggest asshole. When he saw the guy leave, he looked down, expecting her to question him. Instead she kissed him.
> 
> His heart pounded and mocked, _you will never be over her_ as his fingers dove into her curls and stroked behind her ears. He felt a shockwave running down his spine, and felt more alive than he had for awhile. He slowed, and let her lead because he did not want to cross any invisible lines that he wasn't supposed to. After she pulled away, she smirked. “Now we're even.”
> 
> Ander and Omar were nauseating as a couple (still is, really), and as Ander's best friend, he often was voluntold to come along as company for Nadia. During the breaks, he could avoid that responsibility because he was never home. Grief was a strong motivator to avoid and neglect everything, and Lu was also a great distraction. “So…” He rubbed his palms together. They were stuck in a library together, waiting for the lovey-dovey couple to return, which won't be for another two excruciating hours, and she was hard at work, ignoring him. He went back and forth in his head about if he should start the conversation or let things fester, but it had been three weeks since the incident. He couldn't stop thinking about how soft, and lush her lips were, or how she took his breath away when she left him standing at the party like an idiot. She was different under his touch, and he wanted to know more. “How long will it be before we address the elephant in the room?”
> 
> She stopped working and looked up at him with a blank expression, but he can feel her anger brimming. Completely justified, of course, because he was the one that left their friendship first. “Or we can sit here in silence. I’m okay with that too.” They were already on delicate ground, if there was still anything left to salvage. “Lady’s choice.”
> 
> “I didn't realize we had something to talk about.”
> 
> “You kissed me.”
> 
> “So did you.”
> 
> He licked his lips. “I know.”
> 
> “Then you told me that you loved me, and then you disappeared. I sent you—”
> 
> “7 texts and 3 phone calls.” He kept track each time she reached out because it was the highlight of his day. The day she stopped, he felt like someone punched his guts, but he knew that he was doing the right thing for the both of them. It was like he told her father. They had no future together, and he had a responsibility toward Lu and his parents. He saw no point fighting the inevitable. “I know.”
> 
> “There, we talked.” She then went back to work, and he was invisible again, so he tapped the table to get her attention. She looked up, and sighed. “What?”
> 
> “I was hoping that we could be friends. I mean, we go to the same school. My best friend is dating your brother. I don't think we'll be successful avoiding each other.”
> 
> “You managed to do that just fine for the past nine months so—"
> 
> “I want us to at least be on okay terms.”
> 
> “Well, you'll have to get use to not getting what you want.”
> 
> He waited a couple of seconds, and held his breath, hoping that she was saying what he thought she was.
> 
> “That was a joke,” she added with a small smile, making him exhaled with relief. “We had never stopped being friends, Guzmán, even when you pushed me away. If you're worried about what I said earlier, don't. I don’t hold you responsible for anything you say in moments of grief.”
> 
> Her eyes lingered on him for a second longer before letting the conversation dropped. A wiser choice would have been to let it go, but letting her think that he didn't mean what he said bothered him more than making a smarter, wiser choice. “What I said back then,” he began. His hands got clammy and shaky. “I meant every word.”
> 
> She did not look up, but he saw her mouth curved into a small smile.
> 
> Marina's birthday came, and he drowned himself in alcohol. His parents were probably in a different country trying to forget the event altogether. His mother had upped her anxiety meds since Marina's passing, and his dad, well, he had his own vices to entertain. Guzmán was not entirely sure what they did on days like this because he rarely came home anymore. He grew tired of looking into an emptied room, hearing his mother nightly cries and seeing his father's absence. Lu usually stuck to him like glue, but she was doing overseas studies, so this time he was completely alone. He found himself in front of Nadia's dorm room at 2 in the morning. His eyes blurred, head spun, and body drained of energy; he knocked on her door. “Nadia, it's me.” He slurred on his words and held a hand to his pounding temple. “Please let—”
> 
> The door swung opened, and he almost fell forward but caught himself just in time. She stood in the door, a vision in the darkness, a light at the end of his tunnel. He flashed her his most dazzling smile, and did not notice when his legs gave out. His body lurched forward, thinking that he was going to hit the ground, but she caught him solidly in her arms. For such a tiny woman, she held him up quite well. “Guzmán, what—”
> 
> He held onto her like she was his last lifeline because she was and always had been. “It's Marina's birthday.” If there was anyone that understood, it would be her. “I—I don't want to be alone.” He felt her arms tightened around his body. She then ran a hand up and down his back soothingly. He rested his head on the crooked of her neck, burying his face into her hijab, and released the sobs that had made their home in his throat for the past year.
> 
> The last thing he heard was her soft _I'm here_, and felt safer than he had in months.
> 
> The thing about being friends with Nadia, beside being completely in love with her, was that he couldn’t keep his cool whenever some guy came into her orbit. He understood perfectly why. Nadia was wicked smart, sharp witted, and beautiful so it made sense that people would flocked to her. If that wasn’t bad enough, some jackass in her class caught her eyes, wowed her with his intelligence and she couldn’t stop mentioning about how impressed she was. Sure, that guy was smart, but was he hot though, Guzmán wanted to say, but he must have had big balls because he asked Nadia out and she accepted. Guzmán was well aware that he had no stake when it came to her, but knowing it and practicing it were two completely different things, which was how he found himself stalking her on the date, and now stood across the room from her, who wanted to kill him.
> 
> One look and he knew that he had fucked up, more so than when she found out he got close to her because of a bet, and definitely more than finding out that he slept with Lu after telling her he had feelings for her. “So let me see if I understand your logic. You can go out with whoever you want, and screw whoever you want, but when I do it, you have to ruin my date because you're looking out for me? What kind of hypocritical bullshit is that?”
> 
> If eyes were the windows to the soul, hers were screaming red; and he couldn't tell her that he ruined her fourth date with a future doctor because Omar got into his head about how perfectly matched they were. She wanted to change lives, and the guy wanted to save lives. The possibility of the relationship becoming something serious was too big of a chance for Guzmán to take, so he acted out and made an ass of himself. “He sounded too good on paper, so I was worried that he might be an asshole. You can never be sure.”
> 
> “How can he be when I’m standing across the room from the biggest one right now? You entitled, self important, hypocritical jackass.”
> 
> “Excuse me?”
> 
> “I honestly think that you actually believe the earth orbits around your existence.”
> 
> He heard an _oooh_ from Ander and Omar, whom he forgot were even in the room in the first place. Annoyed, he sent them a deathly glare that immediately shut them up. He glanced back at her. The air charged with tension. “Well, have you even met everyone on this earth to make such a blanket statement?”
> 
> If possible, her face got redder. “Are you fu—”
> 
> “Guys—” Omar finally spoke up. “Maybe we should calm down.”
> 
> “Stay out of this,” they said in unison. She then looked at him with daggers in her eyes. “What exactly is your problem?”
> 
> In hindsight, he should apologized and begged for forgiveness, but instead, he went with arrogance. “It's not my fault that he was intimidated by my presence. He should be more confident. I mean, do you really want to date a guy like that?”
> 
> “What are you? 5?” She stared at him, mouth ajar in disbelief. “Listen to what I’m saying. I am dating him because I want to, because I am interested in him. If anyone was childish, it was you. Just when I think you've matured, you go and pull this shit.”
> 
> That stung. “Don't make this about me—"
> 
> “From the beginning, this has always been about you. The bet, the chasing, the forgiving, the back and forth. You want me. Then you can't. You love me, then you don't. You give love out like a cheap motel, and you wonder why nobody stayed.”
> 
> “At least I'm not fooling myself into thinking I could be happy with a mediocre guy, living a mediocre life. He’s not the right one, and you know it. You’re just mad that you can’t like him more than you want to.”
> 
> “That’s rich coming from a guy who’s dating a girl out of obligation rather than love.” She then held a hand to her temple. “Listen clearly, because I will only say this once. We are friends, and nothing more. You can either support my choices, or don't be in my life.” She then turned to Omar. “Let's go.”
> 
> He reached for her out of instinct. “We're not done talking.”
> 
> “Yes, we are,” answered Nadia, flinging his arm away. “Figure out who you want to be in my life, and let me know. Until then, don't talk to me.”
> 
> He curled his fingers into fists. God if only there was something to punch. It was never his intention to ruin her date, or make whatever his face feel bad. He was jealous because the guy's able to have something with her that he cannot. “Guzmán.” He must have stared at the door longer than he thought because he did not even register Ander's hand on his shoulder until Ander spoke. “You okay?”
> 
> “Yeah.”
> 
> Ander sighed. “Look, I’m your friend. I will always have your back, but you’re fucking shit up.”
> 
> Irritated, he snapped. “The guy was way too sensitive.”
> 
> “Have you met you? My bet is you showed up, pestered them, probably couldn't stop sending food their way and interrupted their date with your incessant need for attention from her.”
> 
> Ander was not wrong.
> 
> “Anyone with two eyes can tell that you like her, but you’re not in the right headspace right now to make any sort of commitment to her, not before working your shit. Figure that out before you do anything else that I cannot defend and she might not forgive you for. I love you man, but I really like her too.”
> 
> People often said their lives were counted in moments. The day they were born, the first time they felt the skin on skin contact with their mother that tethered them to the world, the day they fell in love, skinned their knees, the list went on and on. For him, he remember two: his birth parents’ overdose and Marina's death.
> 
> He googled once: _how to deal with grief when all you want to do is die,_ and it answered with an emergency hot line, so he decided to drink, and thought that maybe if he closed his eyes hard enough, and got drunk enough, he could fly to where his parents and Marina were. Lu saved him from that fall, and to that he owed her his life. He kissed her and said that he needed her like he needed air, because it was true. She was the only one that stuck around when he was a man without an anchor. She kept him from floating away.
> 
> Once, when they were lying in bed, Lu's hair spread across the pillow, skin glowed under the lights, she looked like an angel. He thought that maybe he could be happy with her, like he could really loved her if he tried, and if he forced it enough, the amount of affections she had for him could become his. He thought, but he was wrong. Gratitude could not create love. In his moment of honesty, he asked, “Why would you even want this?”
> 
> She blinked, not understanding what he meant. “_Amor_, I love you, and you love me. A little is something too.”
> 
> Guzmán was always a do-it-first, apologize-later type of guy, but with Nadia, it was different. She slowed him down, and made him calm. When everything fell apart, and she wasn't around through no fault of her own, he tossed all that he learned, the growth that came with knowing her out the window and resumed his old ways. He drank, partied and partook in things that were not ideal. Grief was a hole that sunk its teeth into him and didn't let go. He chose to numb the pain than to deal with it, and gradually, it became easier to drown than to ask for help. Ander was not wrong when he said his head was not in the right headspace to make any life changing decision. At least this time, he thought it through. “I come in peace.” He then grinned and held two hands up in surrender. “I just want to say—”
> 
> “That you’re an ass? I already got the memo back in high school.” Nadia left the door open for him to follow her in. “I'm only agreeing to this because of Ander.”
> 
> “Since when did you and Ander become such great friends?”
> 
> She tilted her head with her arms crossed. “You're wasting time.”
> 
> “Right, of course. I am here for to apologize.” He took in a deep breath and said in one rushed breath, “I overstepped my boundaries and acted in a petty manner. I shouldn't have done that. I was a shit friend, and I’m sorry.”
> 
> “That was actually a good apology.”
> 
> He laughed, and looked around the room, which was half the size of his. Nadia's side was neat, with books stacked in alphabetical order. She had one family photograph in her desk, and barely any other decorations, which wasn't surprising. Nadia was not a showy type. She carried everything inward. “Well, Ander scolded me for the first time in awhile so I knew that I really screwed up. Also he might choose you if you end up cutting me out of your life.”
> 
> She pursed her lips together, and let her eyes scanned his face. Something about the way she stared made him pause in hesitation. “Now tell me why you're really here.”
> 
> He stopped smiling. “What?”
> 
> “You have this thing you do, right at the corner of your mouth, an involuntary twitch when something’s on your mind, even while you are smiling. It’s kind of a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of thing,” Nadia explained, clearing her throat. Two pink dots appeared on her cheeks. “You did it when I called you on the bet, again when I told you that I wasn't the only girl flirted with, and now, so tell me why you're really here.”
> 
> His throat parched all of the sudden ass he sat across from her, and he can’t look at her in the eyes anymore. The words forced upward, slowly. “I don't think I'll ever be able to hide anything from you.”
> 
> She leaned forward, and locked eyes with him. Her face softened as she put a hand on his thigh. “I like it when you're honest.”
> 
> God, if she did not deserve someone better than him, someone who will offer her support, someone who was brave, and good, like Hasan, the future doctor, the one that she was still seeing (he did too much cyber stalking on him), because she did, and probably always will. 
> 
> “Are you okay?”
> 
> Shaking his head, “My mother can barely sleep without her medications. My father buries himself in work and I’m walking on a tightrope,” he admitted. He kept his tone light, but couldn't stop it from trembling. “I don't know what to do.”
> 
> Nadia touched his face, and he leaned into the touch. He can hear the silence in his head. “You cannot save your parents if you are drowning yourself, Guzmán. You have to let someone in.”
> 
> “I let you in, didn’t I?”
> 
> “Then you ran,” she said. “Will it be different this time?”
> 
> "You ran too," he says as a matter of fact. "You never tried again. I thought you would. I had hope you would. I waited."
> 
> "Guzmán."
> 
> "No, _amor_, I know everything happened between us was of my own doing, but we're being honest, right? I was waiting for you. I'm always waiting for you."
> 
> "You were looking for someone to save you and anyone could have been enough, and I didn't want to be just _anyone_."
> 
> He exhaled sharply and rubbed his face. "Shit. I'm ruining this, aren't I?"
> 
> "No, no, no." She then pulled him into a hug and caressed the nape of his neck. "It's going to take more than this to make me to stop our friendship, but you need to process that grief inside."
> 
> He nodded, then dropped his head on her shoulders. He felt her arms wrapped around his neck as he leaned into the hug. The moment felt final, and he knew that she felt it too.

Maybe he should have seen it coming when he finds her waiting outside his hotel room. He leans forward and kisses her on the cheek, a friendly gesture of _hello_ but it means more. With her, everything always means more. He lets her in and offers a glass of water. For as long as he has known her, Nadia barely drinks. He’s jealous of her self discipline. “Tired?” she asks, lifting her head up; a kind smile on her face.

He shakes his head. “Being near you makes me feel better.” She rarely seeks him out because of her work keeps her far too busy and impossible to flag down. Hence why he’s always the one that often visits during her lunch hours or pries her from work with dinner to make sure that she's eating. “I'm not in trouble, am I?”

Nadia pauses, then says, “We should talk.”

He puts his glass down.

“I receive your engagement announcement.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a red envelope. “Luckily it didn't come with anything else.”

He feels the life drains from his body when she slides the card his way. When he takes it in his hand, he feels lightheaded. “I meant to tell you.”

“I know,” she says, and he knows she meant it. It has taken them a decade to build this trust, and Guzmán is never one to lie to her. Couldn’t even if he tries. “That’s why I thought I would make it easier and bring it up. This thing that we are doing, it should stop—"

“What thing?” The thought of having her disappear from his life like the last two years of college, and a couple more because he was being stupid flashes in his mind and makes him panic. He can't imagine being so close to her only to lose her again. “We're two friends, having dinner together as friends do.”

“You can't keep taking me out to dinners and flying to visit under the guise of friendship. That’s not fair to anyone involve, especially not Lu. I am not her biggest fan but—"

“You know how I feel about you.”

“I also know that you’re with someone.” She sighs. “Until we get to a place where feelings aren’t involved, it’s best stay away.”

“And if I say no?”

She shrugs. “Sometimes we don't get what we want.”

"That’s too bad because I really want this.” He then takes both of her hands in his. He holds them to this lips like he’s saying goodbye all over again, and it hurts more and more each time. “If you ask me to, I would. For you.”

“You know I can’t. This back and forth with me, even if we are not doing anything, we are doing something, and regardless of how you feel about me—"

“It's not enough.” He then hangs his head. “I’m sorry.”

She touches his face, running her thumb across his cheek. “It's okay to stay with someone who was there for you through all your dark times. She saved you, _amor_, so whatever door you left open for me, you need to close it.”

He touches his forehead to hers, and closes his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

She shakes her head, and says with a smile. “Nothing to be sorry for. We'll okay in due time.”

That, he knows, is the impossible.

_-tbc_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who's reading. This is more or less Guzmán POV. There'll be a 3rd part. Probably.


	3. Chapter 3

_You are written in every molecules of mine_

//

Some time after— the cut off contact, the pouring himself into his work, his parents, and every other aspect of his life that do not remind him of Nadia— Guzmán comes home to packed boxes, a ring on the table and a resigned, weary Lu that told him this is it, the inevitable and permanent end for them.

He just wishes it hurts as much as she wants it to.

Nadia finds a ring instead of socks for her cold feet, and goes into panic mode. She can feel the trepidation crawls up her arms, filling her with a sense of dread and pretends that it’s just the nerves talking. _I love him. I love him, _she repeats over and over until her mind goes numb, and she’s so distracted at work that she forgets to eat her lunch. It’s then that she realizes it’s is all wrong because _he's not the one_. She breaks up with him the day after, and the words do not come out properly. They are garbled garbage full of clichés and excuses, but she thinks he gets the gist of it. There’s a silence on his end before he says what she’s been afraid to admit.

_It’s because of him, isn’t it?_

She’s not confident enough to say no, so she says _it’s me_, but he cuts her off with _don’t_ before telling her he will mail her things back. He's not angry, just deep, tired sighs like he’s been waiting for it and could now finally breathe. When he asks _was I a stand in, _she immediately says _no_, _never _but in the back of her mind, she hears _you are a good liar_. Nadia buries that guilt so deep, they’ll have to excavate her to find it. She cries like she means it before he hangs up. The tears might not be for the right reason, but it doesn’t make them any less real.

She <strike>does</strike> did love him.

_Ish_.

“You okay?”

Guzmán closes his eyes and tilts his head back on the chair’s headrest to stop the pounding of his temple. The room stills instead. He’s been bombarded with questions left and right from reporters and his own family about what cause a happy engagement to end in tears a week before the wedding is supposed to take place. The news tanks their stocks by 3%, which is a small hit in the grand scheme of things. He’s more concerned with the things they put on gossip blogs because in no way does he wants Nadia’s name to be anywhere near his. Lu’s family is well connected, and apparently the word on the street is he’s the noncommittal, philandering type who spends his days at clubs while she’s the dedicated fiancé that tried to make it work but couldn’t anymore. His competency is called into question at board meetings, and they’re not wrong about him cheating, minus the noncommittal and philandering part. He’s been dedicated to one person for most of his life, but that person's not his fiancé, so maybe it’s all the same. Either way, the board voted that it might be best if he takes a week or two off until the news die down.

Samuel sighs. “You guys were so committed to make this work. What changed?”

He wishes he could make sense of it all. He came home one night, and she told him that she can't fight against the ghost of someone else any longer if there’s nothing for her in the end. He can’t tell if it was a test or not, but she left in the end. He probably should have chased after her, but he didn't because they are not kids anymore. He doesn’t have it in him to pretend that this was what they both needed and wanted. “I don’t know.” It’s the God honest truth because he would have done it, walk down the aisle and the whole nine yards. He might not love her as much as she loves him, but he’ll make sure to give her all he could. “She’s been a part of me for so long, but I can’t muster anything other than relief when it ended.” He then rubs his face, ashamed. “I know that sounds fucked up. Don’t get me wrong. I'd have done everything to make her happy. I know that it hurts her to be with me. It always does because I can’t ever give her what she wants. Still, she stays anyway. That’s us, right? She gives. I take, and we always come back to each other in the end. Our parents drilled that into our head for so long that we belonged to each other. Who am I without her?”

“So maybe she did you both a favor then.”

He quiets as her words echo in his mind.

_I’ve loved you for all of my life, amor. Tell me that you can let her go, and I'll stay. _

He’s never been a good liar, and Lu deserves better.

Nadia gets a week off work before she’ll be stationed in Myanmar for the next two years. The break coincides with Omar’s birthday where May also will be coming home so it will be a nice distraction for her parents. She hasn’t muster up the courage to tell them about her breakup. During the flight, she asks for a glass of wine to temper her anxiety. Her worries, thankfully, are for naught it turns out as she hoped, except for one small problem.

May catches her eyes, and Nadia knows that she’s busted.

That’s the thing about big sisters.

They _always_ know.

Guzmán was never good with the mundane of daily life. That’s why he enjoyed taking over his father’s work. It's fast paced and constant, leaving him little to no breathing room. He likes having a goal and heads straight toward it like an arrow to the bull’s eye. Now, without a job to report to, he has ample of time to mull over things that he keeps under a lock and key, and sometimes lets slip out during therapy like how he can’t remember the last time he was satisfied and happy. His mother is still trying to piece together where everything went wrong and urged him to reconcile because_ you guys are a perfect match_. His father on the other hand, was the one that told him to take a leave of absence so he can _think it through _even though Guzmán has told them that it was over. They were not happy, but it’s nothing they won’t get over.

There’s the other issue that never quite goes away: Nadia, who has kept her word and not reached out once since he came back to Spain. He doesn’t like it, but he understands where she’s coming from. There are complicated feelings involved that could have repercussions in her line of work, and she loves it too much to have it be affected by personal matters, not that he would ever ask her to choose. Part of him already knows which she will pick, but that's neither here nor there. He just wishes things were different, and if it’s not terrible enough, he has hoped that she heard about his engagement ending and— scratch that, he can’t be that much of an asshole to even entertain that thought. It does bother him that Nadia's resolve to maintain a distance and keep their lines clear is better than him. She can leave him and functions, whereas he is always in a constant mode of recalibrating.

His phone vibrates with text from Samuel, giving him a well needed break from his thoughts.

S_he’s home. Alone._

Suddenly his axis spins again.

When May comes beside her and offers assistance with the dishes, “Omar has to pick up Ander from the airport so he couldn’t stay,” she explains, seeing Nadia's confusion, as she takes the dishes Nadia has washed to dry. “It’s only the two of us now.”

“You're practically gleeful,” Nadia says with a knowing smile. “What is it that you are dying to ask?”

“You and Seleem are okay?”

She almost drops the dish in her hand, but quickly catches it just in time. It doesn’t escape May's eyes unfortunately. “We're fine.” Lying makes her uncomfortable to say the least. “It’s like I said. He’s busy.”

“Right,” May says as she searches for answer on Nadia’s face. “Did you guys break up?”

There’s no point in lying any longer. “Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. That’s the problem. He was perfect in every sense. He always made me feel safe, secured and loved. He was so much more than I could ever ask for. It's just—”

“You're just not in love with him.”

“He was going to propose, and I just couldn’t imagine a future with him. It felt wrong. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“No, cariña,” May assures, squeezing her hand. “It makes you an honest one.”

Nadia sniffs and wipes her nose. “I know time isn’t a measure of love or anything, but I always thought that you just know when you’re in love with somebody. I never felt that with him, and I keep thinking it will come. Day after day, and nothing.” She turns to May, half afraid and unsure. She just wants somebody to tell her that they understand. When May gives her a gentle smile, she breathes with relief. “Do you think that I am asking for too much?”

May lifts her chin up. “No, not at all.”

A lunch for two with Rebe turns into a lunch with Guzmán. In hindsight, she should have seen this coming when Rebe texted that she was running late and not to worry because she has a _surprise_ for her. The surprise happens to a ghost of Christmas’ past. Guzmán has a lopsided grin when he spots her through the door. He waves, making it too late for her to pretend that she didn’t see him and leave. She approaches him cautiously. “You used Samu to convince Rebe, didn’t you?”

He laughs good heartedly. Hand to his chest. “You know me too well.”

She rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance. “Sadly, I do.”

“I’ve missed you,” he says softly, “And you look beautiful, like always.”

Nadia thinks that she’s too old to be fluster, but here she is, blushing like she’s 16 again and discovering what it means to have the butterflies, sweaty palms and dry mouth just because a boy tells her that she’s beautiful, like she hasn’t heard that line by him before. “I thought we said that we were going to give each other space.”

He cheekily responds by holding up his ring finger without the ring. The tan lines are still visible, which means this was a recent event. “That is no longer necessary, no?”

“What do you want, Guzmán?”

“You.” He doesn’t break eye contact. Always so confident and assured in his response, she wonders where he gets it from. “I have to tell you though; the price was steep. Samu did not hold back in his request.”

Nadia laughs as she can only imagine what he bargained for, probably more time off since Rebe has been complaining that she doesn’t see Samu enough. They’re still going strong five years later, and Nadia can’t help but feel a bit of jealous that somehow, they managed to get it right instead of her and Guzmán. “I bet you suffer as real set back.”

“Well, I’m a lover at heart,” he says with a wink, then lowers his eyes to her lips. “I understand the need to spend time with a woman you love.”

“Stop looking at me like that.” She can feel her throat closing up under his gaze, so she turns away to recover. “I’m with someone.”

The statement did not have the desired effect she wanted it to because his smile got bigger like he _knows something is up_. “Do you love him?”

“I’m with him for a reason, no?” says Nadia, careful to keep her voice calm and controlled so her words sound believable. “He's good for me.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I love him.”

“Like you love me?” When she hesitates, his arrogance slips out again, and he glows like the damn Christmas lights. “You’re only delaying the inevitable.”

“And what’s that?”

“You and me,” says Guzmán confidently. His eyes shine when the words slip out. “But by all means, date your boyfriend. I'll wait for you, _amor_, because I know in the end, it'll be you and me.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You sound so sure.”

“Only when it comes to you. Think about it. Let it swirl in your mind.” Then he looks past her and waves. “Rebe is here, so my time's up." Guzmán then gives her a light kiss on her cheeks. “I mean what I said, Nadia. I'll wait until you ready, or until you tell me to stop.”

The ghost of his kiss lingers on her skin, and she thinks_, Oh, he’s good._

Her parents find out about the breakup from Saleem's parents before she could come clean. Nadia rambles on about reason, something about a ring and everything else in between when her mother asked about the why. “I couldn’t do it, mama,” she hears herself say. She doesn’t mention that it’s because of someone else. “I'm sorry.”

Though her mother says that she wasn’t disappointed, Nadia hears it regardless. Something about wanting to please her parents still sticks to her like gum to shoes.

_I heard. Are you okay?_

_Yes._

_Do you need company?_

_It’s midnight. _

_That’s not a no._

_It’s not a yes._

He doesn’t come, and they don’t talk after that night.

In the end, she leaves for Myanmar.

Sometimes things just end.

(_for now, at least.)_

It’s almost two years the next time they see each other, and under a less than ideal circumstance. Omar and Ander decided last minute that they were going to have a wedding out of the blue. Traditionally, weddings are planned, but they have never been traditional. Their relationship was born out of spontaneity and therefore, their wedding is too. Luckily she was able to request two days off, just enough to attend the wedding then fly back immediately. Sadly, fate has other ideas and she couldn’t find a ticket out of Myanmar. Just when she was about to give up, Guzmán rang and told her that he was coming. She didn’t need to ask him how he knew where she is.

When the plane lands, she holds her breath. With a hand to her chest, she attempts to tame the wild pounding. The door opens and out comes Guzmán with a bright smile like they’ve never had a period where they didn’t talk. He’s dressed like the the last time she saw him at the consulate in France, in suit and tie like he just got off work.

He rushes to her side and pulls her into a hug. Before she can say anything else, he grabs her small luggage and pulls her up, and into the plane. “We should leave right away if we want to make it.”

Nadia nods and follows him. Once they are seated and the plane takes off, she can’t find the words to say anything while her wretched heart never stops pounding. Even a _thank you _gets stuck in her throat. She breathes in to quiet the storm in her chest.

“I miss you,” he begins first. He says the same thing every time they see each other, and he always mean it. The past year or so kills him, but it was necessary. He wanted to give her the space she truly deserved, while giving himself the time to get everything in order. “Do I need to say that you’re beautiful as always?”

She scoffs, half in disbelief that he could say something like that without blushing, and half shy that he manages to get the best of her by being opened with his words first.

“Are you dating?”

She tilts her head, and purses her lips together as if saying _really._ “I find it hard to believe that you don’t know.”

“Yes,” he clicks his tongue, chuckling, “But I wanted to hear your voice.”

“No, I’m not,” she answers, humoring him. “Are you?”

“I told you before, amor, if it’s not you—”

“Don’t.” She then turns away to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Her neck turns hot. “I still haven’t gotten myself sorted yet.”

“We got plenty of time till we land.”

“You know what I mean,” she replies, then clears her throat. “For today, thank you.”

Guzmán shakes his head. “I know you wouldn’t want to miss out on something important like this, and it was not to make you feel grateful to me.”

“Yeah, well, I feel it regardless,” she says softly, looking down. “You always do things for me that sometimes I wonder if I even do anything for you at all.”

“Is that bad? Do you not want that?”

“I don’t know.”

He reaches over for her hand, and she allows him. He brings it to his lips and kisses gently. “I’m only doing it because it’s you.”

Nadia frowns, staring at him, and feeling weighed down by his words. She doesn’t understand how he doesn’t waver when it comes to her. “I don’t know how to process all the affections you have for me, and I’m just afraid that—”

“Do you want me to stop?”

She sighs. “That’s the problem. I don’t, and I don’t know if that’s fair for you.”

He caresses her face. “It’s not a problem for me.”

“Guzmán. I don’t even know where I’ll be in two years.” She then holds his hand that’s on her cheeks. “I could transfer anywhere and I don’t know if I can ask that of you.”

“If you say yes,” says Guzmán, smiling softly. “I can be anywhere you are, _amor_.”

“That’s a big sacrifice. You know that, right?”

Shrugging, “You’re it for me,” he says like it’s nothing, “I don’t see anything or anyone else.”

“How do you know that you won’t regret uprooting your life for me?”

“Because I’ve been in love with you since I know what love is,” he then kisses her hand again. “I don’t know how to be anything but in love with you, and I would rather be with you than without you. If you want me, that is.”

His words overwhelm her that tears spring into her eyes. A burst of warmth spread through her chest. “I have to go back in two days.”

Nodding, “I know,” he says, “What do you think I’ve been doing the past two years? I was preparing the company for someone else to takeover.”

“Guzmán—”

“All you have to do is say yes,” he interrupts. “I can start over wherever you go. I have no qualms about that.”

Nadia has thought about this moment many times over the years, of being this selfish with him, to pluck him from his family and the life he knows, and drags him along with her. She wants to so badly, and yearns for it with her whole being, but then what? They’ll be happy for a couple of years until he realizes how much of a mistake it is? How they can never put down roots and always be on the run? That’s when her desire for such a thing wilt, and her rationality would set in to put a line between them. Firmly keeping a distance is a way to protect what they have.

“I know that look.” He then grabs her face in the palm of his hands and shakes her. “Stop overthinking. I will not regret anything when it comes to you. I love you. You love me. We can make it work.”

“Yes,” she whispers. His assurance rubs off on her. He’s not one to speak things lightly to her. “Yes.”

Each time gets louder than the last, and the smile on his lips get bigger each time.

“I love you. I really—”

She doesn’t get to finish her words before he crushes his lips on hers like he’s afraid that she’ll change her mind. “Guz—”

“No—” he replies, quieting her with short kisses in between words. “You said it. You can’t take it back.”

She laughs as he continues to bombard her with soft pecks on the lips.

They mange to keep things under wrap until after the ceremony when Omar and May pulls her aside, while Ander takes Guzmán somewhere else, and tells her exasperatedly that it took her long enough.

“It’s right, right?” asks May.

She nods, giving May the biggest smile she can muster. “More than right.”

_\- end_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever and a year and killed all of my brain cells. I had the first half written but had no way to end it well. Also I wanted Rebe to play a bigger role but in the end, it didn't work out. Oh well. Also this was written before season 3 so as you can tell, nothing was accurate. Lol.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments or criticisms are always welcome.


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